


Congratulations, It's Twins!

by Lavell, Omirao



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Child Acquisition, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Indulgent, Isekai, Self-Insert, mention of sex work, no beta we die like men, not dnd compliant, sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavell/pseuds/Lavell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omirao/pseuds/Omirao
Summary: The Mighty Nein are just passing through the crossroads on their way to Hupperdook when Mollymauk is suddenly accosted by a shrill shriek: "Lucien!? It IS you! Come to take responsibility, finally, have you?!"Behold a collaborative, indulgent daydream where my friend and I are reincarnated as Lucien's oops-babies, to Molly's horror. We are about 5 years old when he finds us.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just for fun. We are not being paid for this. I (Omirao) am not actually very far in to the Critical Role show, yet. So, I suppose I will be writing this as I watch! I just know that Molly dies soon from where I am at and this makes me sad because I am pretty fond of his character and story. Wish we could have seen it played out... Though, I hear Caduceus is pretty cool. There are Pros and Cons to everything. 
> 
> In this AU, the crossroads on the way to Hupperdook have a few permanent structures, including a brothel. The high rotation of visitors in and out of the area has built up a small, mercantile-based hamlet. Also, Vic and Verse do not remember anything DnD. It's a totally new world! 
> 
> Posted: Jan. 13, 2021

The first time Vic opened his eyes and thought, ‘wait a minute’, he was about one and a half. He, like his twin rolling next to him, was a pudgy baby. His skin was a soothing lavender, and his tail was currently being waved about in his tiny baby grasp. On one level, he had been a purple baby with a cute tail and purple hair for his whole life. On another, he was definitely sure that this was not at all the correct state of being. He dropped his tail and laboriously stood up… and immediately fell down, right on top of his twin. 

“ _Motherfucker!_ ” Vic swore, frustrated.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Vic heard from underneath him, slightly wheezed. 

Alright, one (1), that was not English. Two (2), did he just hear a baby say ‘fuck’?

Vic looked at his tiny twin. He wasn’t sure what his face was doing, exactly, but it felt like his eyes were about to come right out of his skull. Verse looked right back at him, red eyes glowing slightly in the cool morning light, slanting over the crib from the window. 

The moment broke as Verse scowled and started squirming and pushing at Vic with their tiny, pudgy hands, “ _Get off me, get off me!_ ” 

“ _Ah!_ ” Vic startled and scrambled forward into a crawl. Unsteady, he got to his feet and turned around to stare at his twin. Verse huffed and rubbed their cute baby tummy, scowling darkly at Vic. Vic grimaced, “ _Uh, sorry? I don’t… You talk?_ ”

“ _I do… What… What’s going on? Why is it going on?!_ ” Verse’s cheeks darkened and their eyes started to tear up. They mostly looked frustrated, but also frightened. Their little baby lips were pulled back in a grimace, showing off tiny baby teeth. It was… distressing, to see such a cute baby look so upset. Vic loved babies, and caring for them but he was a sympathetic crier and upset babies were a surefire way to set him off.

Vic waved his hands, tail lashing behind him, and tried to deflect the oncoming waterworks, “ _Hey, uh, don’t… Uh! It’s ok! Our mom is very nice and caring, and our room is warm and our diapers are dry… at least mine is… I mean, I don’t smell anything, so I think yours is, too?_ ”

“ _It’s dry! It’s just. Talking wasn’t happening! And--and now it IS?! Talking doesn’t just start like a switch! Am I me? Are you you? Are we simulacrum swapped out with the souls of the real babies--did we destroy their SOULS?!_ ” Unable to contain it any longer, Verse burst into huge, gulping tears and a genuine wail cut the morning like a siren. 

Vic felt his own tears well up, “ _Oh my gods, don’t cry you’re gonna make me cry, oh nooo…_ ” 

* * *

Frantic hands twisted the latch, and the door burst open. Hannah rushed in, a little wild-eyed, a frightened grimace souring her expression. Upon seeing only the two babies crying safely in their shared crib, Hannah slowly slumped, relief in every line. She could have sworn she'd heard voices. Disturbing, whispered, demonic voices in the room with her babies... But there was nothing there. Rallying herself, she took a deep breath then briskly walked over to the crib. In unison, Vic and Verse started clamoring for her attention, Vic stepping over to the bars and reaching up, and Verse pitifully grabbing the bars to pull themself up. Seeing Verse in full, screaming hysterics, Hannah gave Vic a comforting kiss to each little horn stub and then reached in and pulled Verse up for a snuggle. She checked them over, cooing comfortingly. They seemed fine, no visible injuries except for a blushing bruise developing on their little chubby thigh. 

She felt Verse’s forehead and, with no sign of fever, she then rubbed gently over the bruise, “Oh, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Did Vic kick you, maybe? That’s a big bump, aw...” 

Verse was slowly calming down with the contact, clinging close, whimpering softly and hiccupping with every other breath. Tears still dripped down their sweet, chubby cheeks, blinked wetly from their big, soft red eyes. 

Hannah hummed and wiped away the tear tracks, holding Verse close and rocking them for a moment. “There you go, baby, there you go. What’s got you so upset? Did you have a bad dream? Are you wet?” She held Verse to her shoulder and peered down their back, using one hand to awkwardly pull Verse’s nightgown up and their diaper back and check for any signs of a mess. Verse's tail twined around her wrist, the baby still clinging as close as possible. She had been woken up not an hour ago for their morning feeding and changing, but Verse had been a little finicky and hadn’t taken much milk… 

“Are you hungry now, babe? You didn’t eat, love, come on, let’s get you settled…” Gently, she shifted Verse and pulled her gown off one shoulder, baring her chest. She pulled them close, and Verse fussed for a moment, then, finally, successfully latched and started feeding. Hannah could feel the baby calming down further, their eyes slowly blinking shut as they took comfort from her care. She looks up at Vic, checking him over to make sure he was settled. He was usually a relatively easy baby, but he cried every time Verse did, so she needed to make sure he was settling down okay from the morning’s dramatics. 

He seemed fine. She smiled at him and he waved cutely back at the attention, self-soothing by sucking on his left hand. He was watching Verse, as usual, fascinated by his twin. His nose was running and there were boogers smeared over his upper lip. 

Hannah swayed slowly from side to side, humming softly and petting Verse’s soft, downy curls. ' _One baby at a time._ '

* * *

The day, in Verse’s humble opinion, went on like a surreal dream. One moment slow, the next, whole hours had gone by, and all the while everything was somehow also exactly how Verse expected the day to go. Of course their mom was honey-blonde, freckled, and sweeter than the apple slices she presented at lunch time. She galloped them across the small table to their plates like a herd of stallions, making clopping noises the whole way, to Vic’s obvious delight. ‘Mama’ had always made lunchtime fun while she introduced us to new finger foods. Of course Verse had a twin with purple skin and glowing red eyes. Of course Verse had no real control of their bladder, and had to have their diaper changed several times. Of course, of course, of course! 

It had been like that their whole life, after all. 

Yet. Not anymore? Who were they, now? What were these memories? What about the REAL babies?! What was that weird language they had spoken that very morning!? It had a harsh, guttural sound, with a strange rasp like multiple whispers coming from the shadows… Actually, it was somewhat frightening all by itself. Why had they thought it should have been ‘English’? What were these _memories_?!

Questions and horror swirled like a cresting wave, and every time they felt it was too much to bear… There she was. ‘Mama’. What must she be thinking, with Verse crying at the drop of the hat? On one hand, this was awful and terrifying. On the other, how… horribly embarrassing! Being so dependent. Needing comfort every other hour, the absolutely surreal experience of giving in to instinct and breastfeeding like it was a completely normal part of their day! One moment, horror, the next, shame and confusion. 

Still, the day passed. Verse was a little embarrassed, but even though they had been in the same room with him the entire day, they had spared barely a thought toward their twin. It was too overwhelming! One moment, having him around is the most normal thing, the next, he may as well be an alien, by the memories! 

At the very least, they had both seemingly decided, unanimously, that they would only speak when alone. 

Before Verse quite knew what to do, the light had dimmed and faded from the window, and they were gently laid in their crib together with Vic, nightgowns tied off and wearing fresh diapers. They even had tiny knitted socks, in a cool, soothing baby blue. Their toys were cleaned away, the lanterns blown out, and they were each given a pair of kisses right on their horn stubs, before mama walked out and gently closed the door. 

There was quiet for a moment, just the sound of their breathing in the room. 

“ _So…_ ” Vic turned and laid on his side, looking over to Verse with wide eyes. It was probably a look of concern, he had made that same face at Verse several times over the course of the day, but they had never had the chance to talk about it. 

“ _So…_ ” Verse repeated back, embarrassment coursing through them, heat suffusing their cheeks. They were feeling completely silly about all the panicking, now. 

“ _Obviously, whatever the cause, we are here, now. You… feeling ok? What a day, huh?_ ” Vic reached up and tugged on his ear, pulling on it in a motion that seemed almost familiar to Verse. 

“ _I’m…_ ” Verse narrowed their eyes for a moment, then shrugged off the familiarity. They’d been feeling that weird sense of familiarity all day, on and off, so they assumed it was more of the same, “ _... Confused, mostly._ ” 

“ _Oh. Well… That only makes sense. Um. We know what mama calls us, now. But I remember a different name. Is it the same for you?_ ” 

“ _Yeah, I do,_ ” Verse replies, before looking over suspiciously, “ _Any idea why?_ ” 

Vic blinks, seemingly unaffected by Verse's implied accusation, “ _Nope. I just woke up this morning… and then realized everything is weird, suddenly. I guess, I’ll start off with an introduction, then? Hello! My name is Omi._ ” He chants the last part particularly, with a singsong tone as though he’s said it a thousand times. 

Verse jolts, a shock of recognition zipping through their body, “ _MY Omi? No, that's ridiculous, Omi is a common name, there are probably lots of other Omi’s. Um. I'm Lavell; nice to meet you?_ ” How embarrassing, they had just blurted out the whole thought without a moment's filter. They stewed, the familiar burn of embarrassment darkening their rounded baby cheeks.

“ _Um?!_ ” Vic sits up and looks over to Verse, suddenly intent, “ _Hey, do the letters LNDS mean anything to you?_ ” 

" _That’s my precious, beloved kitten. My heart and soul; the cutest boy to have ever existed or ever will. A very good boy with a soul of mischief--”_ Verse gushed immediately, without hesitation, memories of long, silky grey fur and a chirping meow overtaking all thoughts of panic or confusion or shame.

 _“Lavell!! It’s me! It’s me, Omi, oh my gods, what the fuck! Did we die? We’re twins, now, how cool is that, oh my gods!”_ Vic suddenly turned and pulled himself to his feet at the bars of the crib and started bouncing, apparently too excited to sit still. His tiny, pudgy baby legs were hidden by his long nightgown, but Verse could see his little socked feet, pressing into the mattress with each bounce.

Verse blinked out their pleasant haze, feeling a rush of joy and recognition at being reunited with their friend, though this was the absolute strangest way to be reunited, “ _Omi!? Wait,_ " they paused, rubbing at their eyes impatiently--why the constant deluge of tears, surely it was possible to feel things without them--they continued their thought, musing, " _If we died… I guess we’re reincarnated? How… How do we have our memories, though? Did we slip past your god somehow? Did he leave them deliberately?_ ” 

Slightly out of breath from his excited bouncing, Vic slumped and laid back down. Absently, he reached up and started pulling at his ear again, “ _Hah… Slipped past? I don’t think so. There are too many deities processing souls for that to happen. Deliberately left? Maybe? It would be up to the goddess, Death’s wife, though, not Death himself. He more concerns himself with ruling the divinities in his court, not the mundanities of reaping mortals. But if she thought there was something to be gained from our evolution being… Delayed? By an intact reincarnation? Then, yeah, she would totally do that. That would imply some kind of plan for us, though, you know? It’s not..._ ” Vic yawns widely, his tiny baby teeth flashing in the darkness, “ _I_ _t’s not exactly standard procedure…_ ” 

Verse frowns, disturbed, “ _I kind of wanna be honored? But that’s. Concerning._ ” 

“ _Oh, yeah, I forgot that you don’t trust gods, sorry. What I mean is... The death court doesn’t usually take an interest in the day to day of mortal life, so, we’re probably fine? As long as we do our best to keep growing and learning and striving… Death feeds on the energy produced by an evolving soul, so they won’t bother us unless we inhibit the evolution of others or waste our unique opportunity for growth--and even then, it would have to be by, like, a huge margin. Death thinks on a universal scale, after all. I guess..._ ” Vic smiled crookedly, a little abashed, “ _I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t have any answers for why we are here, or why we have those memories. My faith isn’t one for providing ready answers._ ” 

Verse is still frowning, though they are a little less disturbed, “ _T_ _hat’s sort of comforting. Just letting us get along with it._ ” 

Vic hums, “ _Yeah. That’s about how I feel, too. So…_ ” He took a deep breath, let it out in a yawn, and rubbed at his eyes. “ _So. How do you feel, now? Are you still scared? I think I would be more nervous if I didn’t have these, frankly, adorable baby memories. It’s… weird, right? On one hand, I definitely remember being human and a grown up. On the other, I have been small and purple and… be-tailed? Having a tail? My whole life. Right? Also. We totally have dicks right now. The whooole twig and berries!_ ” he finishes with a giggle, made all the more adorable by his high-pitched baby voice, even with the resounding, ominous overtone of their strange new language. 

“ _The dick is nice, and I’ve always wanted horns. And a tail! And fangs! Do you think we’ll get fangs? Teething is going to suck--_ ” Verse sucked in a deep breath, stemming the flow of words that had just burst from their mouth. What. The. Fuck. It was like their filter had completely shut off. Instant thought-to-mouth action. “ _I think… I think being a baby is influencing me. I have a thought, and it’s like it instantly translates out of my mouth._ ”

 _“Impulse control, yeah._ ” Vic mumbled, agreeing, “ _I’ve been having that, too. My emotions are all over the place, too. Like, everything I feel is really big and important, and, like… You know?_ ” 

“ _Yeah!_ ” 

“ _It’s like having anxiety, except it’s not just fear, it’s everything. Glee. Frustration. Relief. It’s a little overwhelming. I think our brains are still developing, even though we have enough cognition for, like, holding conversations…_ ” Vic falls quiet, musing. “ _You know… We’ve been having, like, babyish moments. Like when we breastfeed. Or how I keep having to stop myself from putting stuff in my mouth. Or, like, just. That feeling. When mama walked into the room? And it was like instant relief?_ ” 

Verse nodded, intent, “ _Yes! It’s the weirdest!_ ” 

Vic pursed his tiny cherubic lips, “ _This morning, you said something about being worried about the ‘real’ babies… I don’t think you need to worry about that, you know? I think we ARE the real babies. Like, my memories and feelings don’t feel false, or like they happened to someone else. It’s part of what makes this so weird. It really feels like I AM this baby. Like I’ve always BEEN this baby. Like, I remember, sort of, learning to walk. And the first time I bit my tail. And when I cut my first tooth. It’s foggy, like the memories didn’t save right, but it was like that in my first life, too. Developing brains and everything, right?_ ” His voice was soft and sincere. The dim light of moonglow suffused the room, giving everything a silvery grey tinge, offset by the red glow from Vic's narrowed, blinking eyes. He was slumping into the mattress, obviously exhausted from their long, trying day. 

What he was describing… It was exactly how Verse had been feeling. Finally, Verse felt some of their tension unwind, a wave of their own sleepiness washing over them at the release. They hadn’t hurt some random baby, waking up in this new world. They had their friend here with them so they weren’t alone. They weren’t some… Imposter, stealing their new mama’s care. They sniffled sleepily, eyes blinking closed. Dimly, they registered Vic rolling over and settling into the mattress, but mostly they felt themself sinking in… Sleeping… 

"' _Night, Lavell..._ " Vic murmured, but Verse was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our chosen names:
> 
> Verse is Lavell. They like the multiplicity of the name, and connect to it on an artistic level.
> 
> Vic is Omirao. It is pronounced "Vice", and is short for Victory, which Omi is too chicken to go by in full, lol. It's basically two names in one! "Vice" is a shoutout to the awesome dating sim "Backstage Pass", where you play as a makeup artist for a cop drama TV series called Vice/Versus. "Victory" is a representation of Omi's optimism and hopes. You can pronounce it "Vick" if you just can't wrap your head around it, though, Omi is easy-going like that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bullying of babies happens. 
> 
> Jan 14, 2021

Vic suspects he is about two and a half years old, now. He is basing this arbitrarily on the appearance of the singular acorn tree outside the nursery window, as he is not a great stickler for keeping track of time. Based on the season and the weather, he estimates that he and Verse had been ‘awake’ for about a year, now, give or take a month or two. He and Verse had graduated from being left in their crib whenever mama needed to leave the nursery, to being allowed to play on the floor. There was a nice, plain rug, burnt orange in color, keeping the hardwood floor from getting too cold in the autumn afternoon, but Vic wasn’t worried about that. He was standing on the old, weathered toybox, watching the day’s sellers hawk their wares. It was different every day, temporary stalls and tents and carts being set up for convenience in the highly trafficked Crossroads, and Vic was _fascinated_. 

“Verse! Verse, there is BOOKS!” he lisps excitedly, bouncing a little in place and getting fingerprints all over the glass of the window. The wood of the toybox creaked in protest at his shifting weight. 

Eventually, the twins had discovered that the ominous, menacing feeling of their words in that other language was not a personal feature. Mama had walked in on a conversation, white-faced and frightened, and upon realizing the twins were, again, alone in the room… She had asked them straight out if they were talking to each other. Apparently, knowing a secret language, called ‘Infernal’, was an inherent trait to their ‘race’, but it was very disturbing to hear and they’d been asked to try to talk in their mama’s language, ‘common’, instead. By then, they had the basics of common mostly down, but there were still a few troubles with some of the grammar, and their clumsy baby lips tended to lisp some of the words. 

Mama frequently praised them for being “so smart”. On the one hand, were they really? They had memories of being adults, and those memories included a lot of ready knowledge… On the other hand, yes, please, tell little Vic he is a smart and good boy, yes! 

Ahem. 

Mama had a few books, kept on a shelf in her room, but she had been successful at keeping Vic and Verse from touching them so far, except for one tattered book of illustrated fairytales, which she read from faithfully every week. 

Only seeing a book once a week was… Well. Vic and Verse were about to stage a coup, to be frank. No matter that they couldn’t read! They had a helpful set of block letters that mama was teaching them with, but the vocabulary was still a bit hit-or-miss. Learning a new language, with zero roots in common with Latin? It was slow-going, yeah. 

“Vic!” Verse scolded, putting down their toy and grimacing. They waved at the toybox, their tail echoing the sharp movement of their little toddler limbs in a comically cute fashion, “Get OFF the toybox, it’s gonna break, and then...? Trouble! Why are you climbing stuff!” 

Vic whined, rubbing at his perpetually runny nose with the bunched-up hem of his gown. “I wanna see outside, Verse, it’s fine. It’s just noisy, that’s all!” He turned back around to peer back at the temporary shops, mumbling quietly, “Perfectly sturdy...” Notably, he stopped bouncing, now leery of testing the true measure of their old toybox. Technically, it wasn’t made to be climbed on like this, after all… 

After another longing look, he sighed and turned away from the window, carefully climbing down from the toybox. He took special care with his palms and tail. You only had to get a splinter once to decide it wasn’t worth it. Or five times. Or as many times as it ever happened, it was always worth it, mama should invest in a proper step-stool! 

Vic tugged on his ear, a thoughtful pout pursing his cherubic toddler lips. Mama was working in the commons room right now, helping to set up for the evening’s entertainment. If Vic was going to get outside today, it was now or never. Once the clients started coming in, kids were the last people to be welcomed. He walked over and tugged at the latch. 

There was a rustling sound behind him as Verse got up, hugged their teddy to their chest, and followed after, “Where’re we going?” 

“Outside! I wanna see the books up close. I can’t read much, yet, hah, but maybe there’s a book with pictures! Hah! Not that we have money… Hah! But if we find something cool, maybe we can ask mama!” Vic chatters cheerily, taking every other step with a big bunny hop through mama’s room and out into the hall. The hall was empty, and better, there was an exit there, bypassing the commons entirely! 

Thus the two toddlers walked outside (or hopped, as the case may be) in matching bright yellow wool gowns, vibrant red wool stockings, and soft goatskin booties. Apparently, it wasn’t common for young kids to be fitted for tunics and pants here. It was considered wasteful, as children grew too quickly and the pants had to be replaced frequently, whereas a gown could be worn for upwards of a year or more before needing to be replaced! Vic was a little nervous about getting their stockings dirty, but they were a sturdy set, meant more for warmth than for looking fashionable, so it would probably be fine, right? 

Now that he was outside, Vic was feeling a little guilty about leaving without telling mama… But he still really wanted to see the books! ‘We’ll just be a quick minute, in and out, and back in the room before mama notices,’ he mused, nervously reaching up and twisting his ear. 

It was different, having pointed ears, but after a year the feeling had become more natural to his fingertips, and he’d learned new ways of folding and twisting that felt soothing. It was an old habit from his previous life, adapted here to this one. Weird, the things that follow a person around, life after life… He reached up and rubbed at his developing horn stubs, feeling the now familiar grooves and bumps with relish.

As they crossed the roads over to the tents and stalls, they garnered a few surprised glances, but the locals knew them and paid them no mind. The travelers, on the other hand, minded very much. 

“What the fuck, two baby devils, would you look at that?” A rough looking woman sauntered up to them out of a tent, a heavy fur cloak thrown over one shoulder, her eyebrows quirked. Vic stepped back, reaching for Verse’s hand, his tail coiling nervously around his knees beneath his gown. “How’d a pair of brats like you get all the way up here, huh?” 

“We live here!” Vic declared, trying for confidence. His tone wavered a little uncertainly, his babyish voice shrill. 

Verse grabbed tightly to Vic’s reaching hand, a little too tightly, and then heaved back! Startled, he jerked, stumbling heavily and spun around. Verse had been jerked back into him at the unexpected resistance and had fallen, dropping their teddy into a tuft of grass growing in the old, worn dirt road. Apparently Verse had thought they would immediately run? And Vic had not caught the unspoken message. 

The woman burst out into rude guffaws, her eyes following the line of Verse’s attempted escape… Back to the brothel. 

“Ahh… Whoreson’s, of course,” curiosity sated, the woman rolled her eyes at their fumbling and then suddenly spit, hitting Vic in the shoulder. He froze, shocked at the insult, feeling a blush of humiliation and offense burn its way up his neck and into his cheeks, and she laughed again and walked away. Vic went to touch his affected shoulder, but stopped before touching it, hand hovering uselessly in the air, a familiar sinking sensation sucking at his chest. He sniffled, feeling his nose running again, and suddenly it was too much. He scrunched up his eyes, breath catching in a deep, gulping gasp, tears welling up, and he wailed right there in the street. There was a tug as Verse finally stood up, teddy in hand, and threw their arms around Vic, hugging him close and gasping out sobs of their own. Vic hugged them back, seeking comfort. 

The bookseller, whose cart they had been standing in front of, approached looking very startled to find two wailing toddlers in the street. He had his hands out, obviously confused and a little out of his depth for the situation, muttering nonsense words and shushes in a vain bid to calm them, “Woah, oh, my, there, there! Sh Shh, it’ll be alright, I’m sure, who’re you--?” 

“What is going ON here?!” a shrill voice entered the fray, and Vic turned his head off Verse’s shoulder to reach toward the voice, his wailing turning briefly into a shriek as he finally started to feel safe enough to relax into the tears. 

* * *

The last Hannah had seen the toddlers, they were playing safely in their room. There was a lot of set up to do for the evening entertainment, and it was her turn to help with it. Usually, the twins had been very good about coming out and asking for help if they needed it, so she had not felt any worries about leaving the door unlocked for them to seek her out. She was just giving the tables a quick wipedown when she heard a sudden commotion outside. Startled, she dropped her rag and rushed out the door. 

There was Vic and Verse, her babies, screaming in the streets. Some strange man was waving ineffectually at them, and she briskly marched across to gather the toddlers. 

“What is going ON here?!” she cried out, stress making her voice shrill in that way she hated. Vic turned and reached up, asking to be cuddled. She crouched down to gather them both close. 

“Ah, there you are, ma’am, so good to see you, are these little tykes yours, then?” the man, middle aged and balding with a stubbled, travel-worn face, stuttered at her. She frowned at him, and he waved frantically, “Oh, no, it wasn’t me, ma’am! Some woman was talking to them and spit at them, I saw it, yeah. Saw the whole thing. Happened right quick, nothing anyone could do. They didn’t get hit or nothing, no worries there! Reckon they're frightened, is all!” 

“Good gods.” Hannah swallowed, face paling. Happened quick?! Nothing anyone could do?! What if it hadn’t been words that...that... BITCH was swinging around?! Her babies! They could have been seriously hurt! ‘ _No, Hannah, don’t panic, you’ll frighten the children, deep breaths._ ’ She took in a deep breath, as deep as she could, held it, squeezing the twins close, and released it in a controlled sigh, tension unwinding as she did. 

She looked back up at the man--a bookseller, maybe, by the cart behind him?--and gave him a tight, grimacing smile, “Thank you.” 

“Oh, it was no.... no trouble, surely, not for me, no. I, uh, is there anything I can do..?” 

“No. I will go and leave you in peace, sir, just. Give me a moment to calm these two down,” she took another breath, eyes closed, then released it and looked around. There was a bit of a crowd gathering. Some worried, most of them judgemental. Her boss, the Madame, stood frowning from just inside the brothel, likely irritated at the unflattering scene. There were a few rude, cruel looking smirks from a group of rough looking travelers, muscle bound and armed to the teeth. She shook her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder and rallied the twins. They were still sobbing, but they were no longer screaming, so it was probably as good as it was going to get at this point. Poor, tiny Verse was hiccupping with each gasped breath, and Vic kept gulping air because he stopped breathing with each shuddered sob. She pulled Vic close, wrapping his little legs around her waist, then scooped up Verse on her other arm, standing with a groan of effort. Her sweet babies were getting bigger with each passing day… 

She walked steadily, head held high, back into the brothel. 

* * *

It wasn't the first time someone took an unfavorable interest in her babies, just the first one to affect them in-person. Over the next six months, there were a few other such incidences, but it was one vile client in particular that drew the line. 

Fuming and battered, Hannah held carefully still as the local cleric healed her cheekbone and black eye. The Madame glowered darkly from next to her, eyes narrowed in contemplation. 

"Hannah. I think it's time we talked about this." She folded her arms, giving Hannah a stern look when she tried to interrupt, "I know you've been saving up to buy an apprenticeship with that weaver, but… Your kids are getting older. They are fully mobile, now, and only going to get more prone for this kind of trouble." 

"My kids aren't trouble! It's these… assholes!" 

"Your kids ARE trouble, they are children. It's basically synonymous. No, sit still, girl, and listen to what I have to say." The Madame eyed Hannah carefully, giving a judgmental sniff when it became clear that, begrudgingly, Hannah was listening. "Now. As I was saying, I think you should use some of that money and contact a friend of mine, back in Rexxentrum. He is a provider of enchanted goods, and I think your babes are in need of a little enchantment. Nothing big, just something to keep them out of mind… something to keep them from being noticed. You understand?" 

Hannah's frown turned into something thoughtful. 

The cleric interrupted, "Here, you're all set, dear. Thank Bahamut for his grace!" 

"Oh, yes, thank you, and thank Bahamut, very much. We are very grateful!" Hannah smiled politely as he left, then turned back to the Madame, a considering purse to her lips. "Madame… I think… I think you are right. Please, I would be grateful for the contact information for your friend." 

The Madame smiled, though her eyebrows retained their stern setting, "I thought you might. It will not be cheap, but you should be able to afford _something_ , at the very least." 

It took a few weeks to send a message and get a quote, then to send her payment through a trusted delivery service, but just after the twin's third birthday the enchanted amulets finally arrived. 

They were nothing extravagant, just a set of carved metal pendants mounted to a soft, leather strap. But, when activated with a short magical incantation they made the wearer fade from perception. If the twins were too rowdy, the enchantments would not work, but her babies were not prone to acting out or attracting attention to themselves purposely. It was perfect, enough to keep them out of mind for those who would behave poorly. No matter that it almost wiped her savings out, it was only a few year's worth. She could easily save again. This was far more important. 

* * *

When mama gave Vic and Verse a wrapped present each one late spring afternoon, he thought it was just some kind of fancy locket. Then he remembered that photography probably didn't exist. Curious, he turned the molded metal pendant around. It looked like it had little letters molded around the circumference like climbing vines, and it was heavy in his small hands. There was a soft leather cord affixed through a solid ring on the top. 

“What is it? A necklace?” he looked up at mama, confused. It was a pretty enough piece, but it was a weird gift to give to a three year old. 

Mama smiled, taking his hands in hers and pressing a kiss to each finger, to Vic’s delight, “It’s an amulet!” 

Giggling, Vic pressed his hands against mama’s cheeks, scrunching up her lips in a silly face. She pretended to bite him and he shrieked, laughing. Verse came up and snuggled in for a hug, giggling at Vic’s delight. They were already properly wearing their amulet, while Vice had his hanging from the cord on his elbow. 

“It’s a special amulet,” mama continued, hugging Verse close, “When you say a special incantation it will activate. While activated, the two of you will be hard to see. It’s because… You know how some people get mean to you?” her face turned serious, peering at each twin and staring into each of their eyes. 

Vic hunched, remembered humiliation and hurt causing his heart to sink. Mama reached out and pet his hair, comforting him. 

Verse was frowning, touching their pendant with a pensive expression, “So… The amulet will help us hide when people are being mean…” 

“Yes! Though… I want you guys to have these activated whenever mama is working. People can still notice you if you make too much noise, or if you touch them, things like that, but not if you are playing quietly in your room. Okay?” Mama looked stern, now, serious, but she gave each of them a small comforting smile. 

Verse was still looking pensive, “Um. If we have the amulet activated, and we are standing in the middle of the room, will we be invisible?” 

Mama raised her eyebrows, “Well… No. Tell you what, why don’t we find out for sure how they work? Let’s try hide and seek, huh? Only in mama’s room, and if you are hidden from mama for ten whole minutes, you get a candy!” 

Vic roared with joy, throwing his arms in the air! “WOAH! CANDY, I WANT IT!!” 

Startled, Verse gasped, freezing in place, then sharply punched Vic in the shoulder. “Why’re you yelling?!” 

“Oof, oh, sorry…” Vic rubbed at his shoulder, abashed. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the funnest, weirdest, most interesting game of hide and seek Vic had ever played. 

Verse did indeed spend a round standing in the middle of the room. It didn’t work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our chosen names:
> 
> Verse is Lavell. They like the multiplicity of the name, and connect to it on an artistic level.
> 
> Vic is Omirao. It is pronounced "Vice", and is short for Victory, which Omi is too chicken to go by in full, lol. It's basically two names in one! "Vice" is a shoutout to the awesome dating sim "Backstage Pass", where you play as a makeup artist for a cop drama TV series called Vice/Versus. "Victory" is a representation of Omi's optimism and hopes. You can pronounce it "Vick" if you just can't wrap your head around it, though, Omi is easy-going like that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Background, mostly filler. The twins are growing up!
> 
> Jan. 18, 2021

“Mama… Who was our dad?” Vic was frowning his pudgy, babyish,  _ lavender _ hands. He now knew that in this new world, he was something properly called a ‘tiefling’. Determinedly, he made a point to ignore the whisper that echoed up, ricocheting the word ‘devil’ around his ears like a particularly bouncy tennis ball. So what if he was devilish? He still had his loving mama! 

Mama was definitely human. She had long, artfully waved honey-blonde hair, big, beautiful brown eyes, and a constellation of freckles all over. She wasn’t tall, compared to other grown ups, but she wasn’t really short, either. Her waist definitely had something to hold onto and snuggle up against, and it made her hugs so much softer and warmer… But she was still completely, normally, human, and Vic and Verse were definitely not. 

Verse perked up from where they were reading their new book, a children’s adventure story featuring a particularly silly gnome. Their pupilless, faintly glowing red eyes blinked in interest as they reached up to push a vibrant purple curl away from their forehead. It slipped back down over their horn stub, but they didn’t seem to take notice. 

Mama pursed her lips, looking over the two of them thoughtfully. “Oh! Um… Well, he was a client. I didn’t know him for very long, and it was a while ago, now, but I will tell you what I can.” 

Mama was the best. She was surprisingly frank with the two of them about certain realities of life, compared to how adults tended to coddle children in Vic’s old lifetime. It cut back on a lot of guesswork, trying to puzzle out what she ‘really meant’. She just straight out said what she meant, right there in the open! Somehow, she was always so kind and gentle about it, too, it never felt embarrassing or shameful when they talked about stuff that Vic’s previous life would have classed as ‘sensitive’. She was frank enough, actually, that children who didn’t already know that these topics were sensitive might have openly talked about them where they oughtn’t, but Vic and Verse were unique and her honesty had never backfired on her in that way, at least. 

Eyes big with interest, Vic crawled the short ways over the rug to kneel in front of mama’s chair, resting against his heels and vigorously tugging and rubbing at his ears. Verse stayed where they were, comfortable in their nest of cushions in front of the fire. There were lounging in mama’s room, the late afternoon sun slanting warmly across her comfortable four-poster from the open window, a faint breeze ruffling the gauzy blue curtains. It was mama’s night off, and after running their weekly errands that morning, she was now doing some mending while the twins rested from running around all day. 

“Hm… Where to start… Well, first he was very handsome. Just like you!” Mama smiled sweetly at Verse and reached out to ruffle Vic’s hair. He leaned in, giggling in his high, child’s giggle. Mama’s smile faded as she narrowed her eyes in thought, thinking back to her singular, life-changing client, “He was also… Well, complicated, I think.” 

“What’s ‘complicated’?” Verse piped up, getting the question in right as Vic opened his mouth to ask. The twins were now almost four years into learning this language, but sometimes the oddest words still eluded them. 

“It means… There was a lot to him. There were both good things and bad things, and it’s tangled up enough that you can’t use one or the other of those words to describe him.” Mama took a moment to work on her mending, pretending she didn’t see Vic vibrating in place, waiting to hear more. He managed to hold on to his patience, and finally she finished gathering her thoughts and continued, “He was… Magnetic. Like those rocks mama bought you? They stick together? He had a way of drawing you in, just like those rocks do to each other. But he hung out with a rough crowd, and you don’t make friends like that with only good deeds behind you. Sometimes people get into trouble and do bad things, and I didn’t know him well enough to know for sure what was really going on.” She sighed, and looked back up at each child. “So… It’s complicated, you see? Nonetheless, I need the two of you to make me a promise.” 

Vic looked over at Verse, who blinked and met his eyes, frowning. Once their attention was back on mama, she gave each of them a stern look and said, “Promise me you won’t seek him out unless you can already take care of yourselves. Okay? We don’t know what sort of man he was, so you need to be ready for anything, good or bad, if you go looking, once you are older and hopefully grown up like mama.” 

“I promise.” Vic agreed, easily. They didn’t need a dad, mama was more than enough. She was everything they needed. 

“I promise,” Verse followed up, turning satisfactorily back to their book. They seemed uninterested in any other questions about their sire, which was understandable to Vic. 

Vic, on the other hand, had a lot more questions; however, he was pretty sure mama didn’t actually have any more answers to give about the man. It didn’t matter, anyway. Mama was more than enough of a parent. 

Well… maybe one more question: “Mama… You see lots of complicted people. I never remember the people who come to the commons… How did you remember him? I mean, besides being a tifling.”

“It’s ‘complicated’, love, not complicted. And ‘tiefling’,” she corrected gently, running her hand through Vic’s curls. 

He leaned into her touch, “Complicaaaated, tieeeefling,” he mouthed quietly, then looked up at her pointedly. 

She smiled. “Well… When I found out I was pregnant, I and the other girls, and the Madame all got together and made a list of all the clients it could have been, and what we remembered of them. Lucien, as he called himself, was one of many, but very memorable! I kept the lists in my journal, and then when you were born, of course it was obvious who your father was.” 

“Oh… So, you really did only ever see him that one time…” Vic rubbed his nose on his gown, earning a scolding ‘tsk’ from mama. She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and passed it to him, and he sheepishly took it and finished wiping his face. 

Yeah. He still had so many questions about this mysterious guy, but at the same time… He was just some John. Vic di’teven believe in blood relations making any real difference, either, so his weird fascination was frustrating him, too. Mostly… He just wanted to know more about what he came from, probably. Like, maybe his weird memories were because of this guy? Mama was normal, after all. Sweet, caring, fierce, everything you could want in a mother. She had a tendency to give the twins a little too much rope, but with their past life memories, it had never actually gotten them into trouble like it might have a ‘real’ kid! In fact, it made being a kid again much more bearable. 

Vic had worried about being so utterly dependent again, once he realized he’d been reborn, but mama was so caring, and so busy… It wasn’t so bad. 

So… Vic still wanted to know more about this guy, but he didn’t think knowing more would actually change anything. It might actually make things worse--what if this guy found out about them and tried to take them from mama?! Struck by this sudden fear, Vic leaned forward and flung himself into Hannah’s skirts, startling her. 

He clung tighter.  _ Never! _ He would  _ never _ let someone take him from mama!

* * *

When Verse had awoken, those two years ago, to a ‘tiefling’ body, one of the first questions they had was if magic was a real, studied thing in this new world. 

Growing up here at the crossroads was a somewhat isolated, protected experience, even with the high amount of passersby traffic. There was no internet. No google. No library, even, or anything like a school! 

Verse and Vic were considered odd. Of course, they were already a minority for their race, being the only tieflings in the hamlet, but they also craved education and learning. They devoured every book in their mama's small library, once she finally deemed them trustworthy enough. 

The books were mostly romantic fiction, nothing racy, with a few interesting tomes on subjects such as: dye making; embroidery patterns; and one which discussed the regional differences, origins and weave patterns for various fabrics. 

In their past life, getting an education was so easy! You opened your phone, accessed the internet, typed what you wanted, and boom. Resources. Some free, most not, but still! There were apps that would teach you the basics of chemistry for free! And hundreds more, on just about any subject in the world! 

Here, there was… Mama. There was Miss Adele, from two rooms over, who taught maths one morning every week to anyone who showed up. There was the local cleric, who technically taught folklore, history, and religion, though Verse could never be sure which subject his lessons pertained to, as the man seemed to view them as all one singular subject. 

Some of the older kids could still barely read! The Madame made sure they all had the basics down, being one of the little hamlet's leading businesspersons, and thus rendered somewhat responsible for some of the work of governance. But she didn't really press for anything more than being able to sound out the letters. 

Thus, information on the study of magic was going to take a miracle. 

Then, one dull, rainy afternoon, the crossroads was again visited by a bookseller. And this time, Verse had a goal in mind! 

They decided to start with mama. After all, knowing the bookseller had something worthwhile would be useless if mama couldn't buy it! 

"Mama, I want a new book. I want to learn about magic! Can we see if the seller has one? Pleeease?" They made their eyes as big as possible in their little cherubic face, pouting their lips in the most exaggerated, pleading expression they could muster. Their tiny hands were clasped cutely under their chin. 

Mama raised her eyebrows, pausing in her work at dusting the windows in preparation for the evening rush. “Magic?” she asked, baffled, “Why… What brought this on?” 

Verse pouted, exasperated at their cutest face not immediately winning mama over, “Magic… does things, mama. You can clean these windows instantly, turn into a… a… cat! All kinds of crazy stuff! I wanna knoooow! Please?” 

“I… Well, alright, I’ll go let the Madame know we’re stepping out,” mama relented, still sounding confused, but willing to invest a little in something to keep the twins busy, probably. Verse was the epitome of quiet, never reaching out or getting into trouble, especially when they had something interesting to read. Vic, on the other hand… Well, he got into less trouble than the other kids in the hamlet, but he had so much energy! Way more than Verse remembered from their past life. 

In their past life, Vic had been just as prone to introversion. He was quiet, his hobbies were mostly sedentary, just like Verse. They had a lot in common. Verse supposed that being a kid again did give a person more energy. It WAS much easier to move around, and Verse themself was prone to while away time dancing in the nursery, humming to themself. It was just, Vic was practically vibrating out of his new skin, he fidgeted so much. He was always moving! 

Mama set down her rag and smoothed down her apron before walking over to the Madame. 

“Yes!” Verse cheered quietly to themself, clapping gently in excitement. Magic! They were going to learn real, actual magic! 

The bookseller did, indeed have one single, battered primer on beginner’s magic. It was a fluke, he told them, traded to him just the last town over for a more advanced tome, which he’d only just lucked into when he stumbled into an auction. Verse reverently felt the worn leather cover, then looked up and beamed at mama. 

She chuckled brightly, her laugh chiming over them like the sounds of a harp, and paid the bookseller, before gently taking Verse by the shoulders and guiding them back to the brothel, “You’ll have to share with Vic if he wants to learn, too, ok? You can learn together! Now, go settle back in the nursery, please, mama has to work tonight!” 

“Yes, mama,” they replied, holding their new book close to their chest. An actual book for magic! They could hardly believe..! They were going to learn _everything_!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Omi" and "Lavell" are not our real names, but we decided against publishing our real names in the fic, substituting our author names instead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition and Filler, mostly, this time. Time is passing fast, only one year left before we meet the Mighty Nein! 
> 
> Jan. 21, 2021

The Crossroads were busy and highly trafficked, but most of the people who Vic and Verse saw changed from day to day, just passing through on their way to bigger, more important destinations. 

It was late spring, just a few weeks after their fourth birthday, when a party of travelers had their wagon pop a wheel just outside the Crossroads. On the one hand, losing a wheel sucks no matter where it happens. On the other, it was super lucky to have it happen this close to other people who could help! So, the party hiked into town and started asking around for repairs. In the meantime, a couple of the members asked if they could hang around in the commons at the brothel. Vic and Verse were watching curiously from behind the door jamb to the hallway while they negotiated. One man, the taller of the two--though that wasn't saying much because the other was a dwarf--pulled down his hood, revealing fair blonde hair and delicate, princely features, including pointed ears and a wry smirk. He was definitely an elf!

Vic felt his eyes widen in interest, just as the stranger looked around and made eye-contact. A real, live elf! This world had elves! Well, Vic had already known that; his mama had gone through and described each of the different kinds of people that could pass through. This wasn't even the first elf Vic had ever seen, just the first who he would probably get to talk to! That thought in mind he pulled away from the door jamb and turned to pull Verse into a hug. 

"I'm gonna go talk to them!" 

"What? Why?" Verse sounded baffled, then exasperated, "We were supposed to meet up with Cleric Iannon to practice bandages today…" 

"I can practice tomorrow! Today I wanna talk to people!" Vic chirped, then skipped out into the commons. Verse huffed behind them, and then disappeared down the hallway and out the backdoor. 

"Hello! I'm Vic," Vic introduced, taking care to keep his tone quiet so he didn't interrupt the Madam's conversation with the strange dwarf. He blinked expectantly up at the elf. 

"Ah… Hello, child, my name is Aeric. How can I help you?" Aeric's pale blonde eyebrow was raised, giving him a somewhat bemused look. Likely, it wasn't every day that a tiefling toddler walked up for conversation. 

Vic tilted his head and shrugged, "I don't need help… I'm bored!" He announced.

"Oh, are you, now?" The elf was definitely humoring him, but he seemed nice enough about it so Vic shouldered forward. 

"Yeah! And you seem bored, too, so I figured I'd come talk--" 

At this point the Madame cut in, "Very well, you and your party may stay here while your wagon is repaired. You'll be respectful of my girls while they finish setting up, and you'll be paying me for my time catering to you!" 

Aeric and his dwarf friend agreed, and the dwarf mentioned going to spread the news to 'everyone', before leaving out the front door. 

The Madame gave a haughty sniff, but easily took Aeric's drink order and left for behind the bar. 

"Um. Come on, I'll show you the best table!" Vic chirped, and took Aeric's hand, leading him further into the commons. Aeric seemed startled at the sudden contact, both brows shooting up, but he followed without complaint and sat at 'the best table' as directed. 

"Well! Ah, what makes this the best table?" He asked. He rested his chin on his hand, but otherwise gave Vic his full attention, which Vic appreciated a lot. 

"Because it's the best!" Vic shrugged. He liked it best, but he wasn't interested in figuring out why, so he didn't actually have an explanation. "What do you do?" 

"Me? Well… I and my party are… adventurers. We get paid to do dangerous tasks for other people. How about you? What does a little one like you do in a place like this?" Aeric deflected. The Madame interrupted again by handing Aeric a foaming drink. He thanked her and handed her some coins, then took a deep drink. 

"My mama works here! The Madame, who runs the bar, is her boss."

The Madame was a stern, domineering woman, rail thin with white-streaked grey hair and a weathered face. Mama never complained about her, from anything Vic had ever heard, so he assumed she was probably an alright boss, even if she seemed real uptight. She was strict about supporting her workers, though! 

Vic jumped at the opportunity to tell a story, turning suddenly towards Aeric and lowering his voice conspiratorially, "One time, I snuck out to the kitchens to steal a late-night snack, and I seen her kick a man out! Apparently, he hurt one of the girls, I guess? She walked him out, scolding him the whole way! Even though he was super tall and muscly, he looked so… confused! And embarrassed!" Vic let out a high giggle, remembering the image of the Madame's small skinny figure chasing out a towering wall of a man. "His shoulders were like this," he demonstrated, hunching his shoulders and making his most exaggerated shame-faced expression. 

Aeric smiled and leaned forward, "The Madame is definitely an intimidating woman. I bet not much gets past her!" 

"Nope!" Vic agreed, then thought for a moment. What else to talk about? He looked around the commons. Miss Adele and Mister Bhalduhr were on duty for set-up today, and were bustling round doing last minute tasks and cleaning. Vic could hear Miss Rose in the kitchens, getting supper ready. 

"Hey there, lad, you doing alright?" Mister Bhalduhr stopped by, mop in hand, eyeing the strange elf with a careful, polite expression. 

Mister Bhalduhr was an actual, real-life dwarf! Full beard and everything! He was very strong, and always happy to keep a couple of excitable toddlers happy by swinging them around. He made the mistake of tickling Verse once, and they bit him like a feral cat. He took it quite well--very patient and good-natured--but he didn’t tickle either of them after that, which Vic was actually a little disappointed about. Sometimes a tickle fight could be a lot of fun, in his opinion, but Verse hated it so his options on opponents were quite limited.

"Yes, Mister Bhalduhr!" Vic chirped, then turned back to Aeric, "Mister Bhalduhr is one of the girls. Even though he's a man, the workers are all called 'the girls'." Vic still wasn’t sure if that was sexist or not, but Bhalduhr never complained and neither did anyone else, so he figured it was probably fine? Also… Aeric was blushing, now? 

Vic snatched his hand back. He'd been absently reaching to poke Aeric in the cheek before his higher brain engaged and reminded him that Aeric was a stranger and might not appreciate it. 

"Ah! Um. It is very good to meet you… Mister Bhalduhr, was it?" Aeric stuttered, not looking anyone in the face. Vic wondered why he was all embarrassed. Was it something he'd said? 

Mister Bhalduhr looked amused, and chuckled heartily, "Aye, it is at that! It's good of you to keep the lad company. Just let him know if you want him to let you alone, he's a sturdy boy and won't take no harm, alright?" 

"Oh, no, he's been perfectly charming, thank you…" 

One of the more annoying things about being a little kid again was how folks sometimes talked over your head as if you weren't sitting right there, listening. 

He and Verse were the only children at the brothel, though Miss Adele sometimes talked about a previous working girl who'd had kids that helped out in the kitchens sometimes. Apparently, the daughter used to make a killer spicy vegetable soup? Vic never met her, she and her kids moved to Zadash before he and Verse were born. The only other kids in town belonged to the family of traders, who worked with the Madame to keep the Crossroads supplied with essential goods. They had a small general goods store on the other side of the road and down a ways. 

The trader family, the Vanderban’s, were nice enough, but their kids were brutal. They were all a little older than Vic and Verse, and firmly believed that meant they were in charge, all the time, no matter what. Vic was a pretty easy-going guy, but even he only had so much patience for being bossed around by a seven and nine year old, respectively. 

Impatiently, he huffed, his tail coiling behind him in irritation. Aeric hadn't actually told him to leave, though, so he stayed where he was and pointed at Miss Adele, "Over there is Miss Adele. She is nice, and also very smart. She teaches maths, sometimes, in the mornings before she works here." 

Miss Adele was a brunette human woman, curvaceous and dark skinned. She had a deeper, smoky kind of voice and was very popular with the clients. She had a deal with the Madame, who paid her to teach maths to anyone in the Crossroads and it's outer fields who showed up to her bi-weekly lessons. Vic and Verse were required to go, even though they were so little. He suspected it was so that Mama had some time to herself, but that seemed fair enough so he and Verse tried to be on their best behavior, even if it was a little boring to do basic counting exercises. Mostly, he doodled on his tablet. Not the electronic thing from his previous life--they literally had a stone tablet that they drew on with chalk, instead of using expensive paper and ink! It was very nifty.

Miss Adele looked up and smirked knowingly at Aeric, who fumbled for his drink and took a deep pull. Vic was starting to get the idea that he was shy about sex work, actually, which might explain his blushing. Unfortunately for the elf, the brothel was the closest thing to a tavern in the Crossroads, so this afternoon would probably be a bit uncomfortable for him, until his friends fixed their wagon. Unless they decided to stick around for the evening's entertainment, then Aeric would be well and truly stuck. Ah, well, maybe it would do him some good? 

At this point, the front doors burst open and Aeric's dwarven friend returned, with a super tall, heavily muscled half-orc! 

"--It'll be great!" The dwarf was in the middle of exclaiming. 

The half-orc seemed a little skeptical, humming and gently closing the door against the cool spring breeze that had followed them in. He was carrying a ginormous broadsword strapped to his back, which Vic thought was pretty amazing! 

"What about you?" Aeric asked, distracting Vic from the new strangers. The dwarf and half-orc walked over to the Madame at the bar to place their orders. 

"Me?" Vic asked, puzzled.

"Yes, what do you do here? You said your mother works here? Is it strange, growing up… here?" Aeric's pointed ears were still pretty flushed. He seemed a little embarrassed, but he hadn't shooed Vic away yet, so Vic was considering this a pretty successful social engagement! 

"I dunno, I only ever grew up here." Vic shrugged, amused. "I guess I do normal stuff? Me and my twin--you saw them earlier, but they left when I decided to come talk--spend most of our time together. We have lessons with Miss Adele, and with Cleric Iannon. When we don't have lessons, Mama spends time with us, or we play on our own…" Vic paused, thinking of his morning, "Earlier today I pretended to be a rooster. Miss Rose was pretty mad because I kept crowing at her and getting in her way when she was trying to cook breakfast. She gets mad when the real rooster does it, too, but it's very funny both ways."

Miss Rose was an older, dark haired human woman, round faced and rosy-cheeked, and always dipping into the wine stores. She ran the kitchens and was in charge of a lot of the cleaning, now, though she was often happy to share interesting stories of some of her past clients, if you caught her after a glass or two. She had a long-time paramour, a married gnome from Hupperdook who visited once a month and showered her with fancy gifts every time. He was her only client, these days, and she was happy about it, because, as she told it, doing the cooking and much of the cleaning for the entire brothel was more than enough to keep her busy! 

Aeric looked baffled, one eyebrow raised delicately and an amused tilt to his lips. His friends sat at the bar, jostling each other and keeping out of Miss Adele and Mister Bhalduhr's way while they finished cleaning. "Why on earth would you want to be a rooster?"

"I mean… It seemed fun at the time? I helped feed the chickens today and they were real, like, cocky? They strutted around and it was funny looking, so I was imitating them. Miss Rose isn't very patient in the mornings though, so she got me with her spoon when I got too obnoxious." Vic rubbed his shoulder, remembering the smack and pouting. 

There was noise at the bar, so Vic turned to look. Miss Elxi was there, now, fluttering around and giggling at something the half-orc was saying. The Madame had left. 

Miss Elxi was a gnomish woman. She and her sister, Miss Primila were giggly and a little condescending towards the toddlers, but they seemed nice enough? Miss Primila was shy outside of her act for clients, so she never had much to say, but she was a great baker! She was very generous with giving out snacks, too, so Vic tried to stay on her good side. Miss Elxi was more outgoing, but didn’t have much interest in kids. She ran the bar on the nights that the Madame was too busy for it.

"Does that happen too often?" Aeric asked, looking a little concerned. 

Vic rushed to reassure him, "Oh, the spoon thing? No, not often at all! I was just being especially silly this morning, and I guess I annoyed her? It's whatever," he shrugged, unconcerned. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon telling stories about his 'adventures' in the Crossroads, enjoying the feeling of a polite, attentive elf. When it came time to open the brothel for the evening, mama came and collected him, thanking Aeric for keeping him occupied for so long, and Vic waved goodbye. 

* * *

Cleric Iannon was a frumpy, absentminded older gnome with a balding head and a wavering voice. He worshiped Bahamut, and worked as the town healer where he could. When Vic and Verse were born, it was Cleric Iannon who delivered them and took care of mama. He held sermons in the brothel's common room twice a week, where he taught a little about history and a lot about religion. Verse knew Vic was skeptical about some of the history, but this was a world where tieflings and elves and magic were all real, tangible things! So, it only made sense that real history would be so fantastical, too. 

Of course, it was worrying to Verse that the gods could just go to war whenever they wanted and royally fuck civilization. Verse didn't trust gods at the best of times, let alone when they let their battles destroy huge chunks of the known world. 

In any case, in the here and now, Verse was on a mission. They had been getting lessons in medicine from Cleric Iannon for almost a full year, now, and today's lesson had to do with medicinal plants. Apparently, there were local plants that could help in the event that magic was either unavailable or not strong enough. Last week, the Cleric had loaned Verse his primer on medicinal herbs, and now Verse had been deemed studied enough to try identifying some of them in the wild. 

"Blue flowers… hairy stem…" Verse muttered to themself, concentrating heavily on the wild grasses and flowers in the fields just east of the Crossroads proper. They could still see the brothel itself from here, poking over the edge of the tall grasses, but mostly it was wildland. Vic was nearby, somewhere, but he must've been crouching because Verse couldn't see him from their part of the field. 

Suddenly he popped up, holding a plant carefully with a handkerchief, "I think I found it! White flowers, hairy stem!" 

"White? I thought it said blue…" Verse pulled out their sketchbook and flipped through it, then groaned, "It's blue flowers, Vic! Tiny blue, in clusters, see? And you can't pull it up like that, the roots are the part we need!" 

"Oh…" Vic shrugged, dropping the flower and shaking out his handkerchief. "Wait! I saw blue like that a few minutes ago, over here!" 

It was a muggy late afternoon by the time the twins finally trudged back into the Cleric's home. Their basket was only half full of a few different herbs and flowers, but all in all, Verse felt pretty pleased with their day's work. If they got the right ones, they were pretty confident they could identify these plants elsewhere, too! 

"Cleric Iannon! We're back!" They called out, knocking politely on his door frame. 

The old gnome bustled out of the back room, looking perpetually startled with his giant glasses, as always. "Oh, good, good, let's see how you did, here…" 

Verse passed him the basket and he pawed through it, occasionally pulling out a plant for a closer look, "Well… these all look very nice, yes… go ahead, then, tell me the names of what you found today?" 

Verse recited each plant name and some of what they were used for. Occasionally, Vic would jump in with a factoid Verse had forgotten, sometimes incorrectly, which caused Verse to debate him for a moment until they both agreed on the correct answer. Together, they were pretty sure they had managed very well. 

Iannon agreed, praising them both for their hard work, "Very good! To both of you, yes, very good! Now, about those spells you asked about, young Verse…" 

Verse perked up, eyes wide and tail lashing behind them in excitement.

"... I am afraid I just can't help. My magic comes directly from Bahamut, you see, it's not a spell I, myself, am casting, like a wizard…" 

Verse slumped, holding back a rude groan by the skin of their teeth. Cleric Iannon was still teaching them medicine, even if it wasn't magic… So it was important to be grateful… 

The Cleric continued on, ignoring them for the moment, "Now, of course, if you were interested in pursuing a more direct relationship with Great Bahamut, maybe..? But that's a question for when you are older, of course." 

"Are you SURE you don't know how to cast healing spells without help from the god?" Verse burst, frustrated. 

"Quite, I am sorry, child." The cleric puttered around his front room, preparing to take the basket of plants out to the well to wash them off. "Now, see here, this root…" 

Cleric Iannon spent the next few hours, all the way up to suppertime, going over the plants they’d gathered and rehashing their uses and proper preparations. Verse felt like their brain was full to bursting, and Vic was getting more and more fidgety as the hours wore on, but they both held on, determined to learn what they could. The prevalence of adventurers passing through the crossroads told them everything they needed to know about the dangers of this world. 

And so they studied, and read, and practiced, and studied some more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to introduce some of the townsfolk. It's important to know some of their relationships to the twins, for later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inevitably, time passes, and the twins are growing up. 
> 
> Jan. 25, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Character Death

It is autumn again. Vic isn’t sure exactly what day in autumn that he and Verse became aware of their past life memories, but he knows it was in autumn. It has been three years now, roughly, that he has lived in this new body. He still doesn’t know exactly how it happened… But he hasn’t exactly been looking for answers, either. 

It was hard, the first time he looked around, still a pudgy, clumsy infant, and realized he was never going to see his family again. Honestly, he hoped this was a “separate timeline” kind of deal, where another him lived on in his place, in that other lifetime. He had watched his family mourn a dead child already, when he was much younger, and had worked desperately through years of depression to keep that from happening again. The thought that despite his efforts, he might have died anyways? 

It was difficult. 

Then there was Verse. How was Verse here, too? Both of them? Together? Close as siblings--literally twins?

Verse had a much more difficult time adjusting than Vic did. Vic had already seen his world completely change on the spin of a dime several times (though not so drastically that he had an entirely new body afterwards, of course), so he at least had _some_ experience in adjusting to something totally new. Verse had lived a much more stable childhood, and also was much more invested in darker, more grim horror fiction than Vic was. So, not only was Verse less prepared to be dropped whole into an entirely new world, they were also prepped for several horrible worst-case scenarios! 

Still, the world kept turning. 

Mama was a blessing beyond compare, especially those first few weeks as they had adjusted to their new bodies and new memories. How she had juggled a full work schedule and two entire complicated, fussy babies was more than Vic could fathom! He had never had children, even in his previous life, but he had done some babysitting. Just babysitting, and it was enough to know how difficult caring for small children could be--how draining. But mama shouldered through, somehow. 

And time kept passing. 

Eventually, thoughts of their past life faded. Still there, but not as sharp. The edges dulled and withered, so Vic could remember things like his complicated relationship with his previous mother, without turning bitter and angry and anxious. It was just a memory, a part of his past, something to learn from. And, for Verse, it seemed much the same. 

Things were easier in this new world. If Vic had to put a diagnosis on it… Honestly? It seemed like here he didn’t have depression. Verse could walk outside freely, without a debilitating fear curling them into a rigid facsimile of themself. Vic felt like he had an endless font of physical energy, always wanting to move, and reveling in the sensations of it all! Verse, while still much more cautious than Vic, no longer had to contend with irrational, insistent, persistent fears of being murdered or otherwise predated on by other people in their life. Vic could touch something sticky, and his mind would just inform him, “it’s sticky,” without blaring klaxons and ringing his head like a bell! Verse could eat food without ever-present, debilitating nausea. Food actually tasted good to them! 

It was a marvel. It was amazing! It made this new life seem less like a horror, and more like some kind of reward for some unknown good deed, at least for Vic. Except, what could he possibly have done to merit this kind of blessing? 

Of course, not everything was easy. People were people, and that included a tendency to form fast, unfavorable judgments. Vic still flinched whenever he heard the word “devil”, and it only took a few instances of the Vanderban kids deliberately stomping on his tail for him to realize that, in some ways, he is still very vulnerable here. 

He was a tiefling and a “whoreson”, and while he didn’t find anything wrong with that, a lot of people looked down on him and Verse for it. No matter what direction this new life took, he would always have come from the brothel, and his appearance would always be distinctive and unusual, at least here in the Empire. 

Still, when he saw himself in the mirror, it was usually with joy. He was inhuman, yes, but still beautiful! His lavender skin was flawless, and his dark violet hair waved in long curls almost to his elbows, now. His vibrant red eyes glowed faintly in dim light, and while it was a little off-putting that there were no pupils, it was also very pretty, especially with the lavender shade of his skin. Three years in, and this was just… This was what he looked like. His tail and horns and fangs were all a part of him, and he actually kind of reveled in the inhumanity of it all, if he were honest. He was proud to be himself. He knew Verse felt the same way. 

Mama helped with it, too. There were some annoyances, like being asked not to speak infernal, but other than that mama always took care to make sure they felt comfortable in themselves. She was gentle with their tails, combed around their growing horns with a loving touch when she helped them with their hair, cooed at their fanged smiles like they were cute and not vaguely threatening. It was impossible not to feel completely loved and secure with mama around. 

Laying next to him in their bed, Verse sneezed once, twice, then grumbled to themself and burrowed deeper into their blanket burrito. Vic smiled at them, glanced at the two moons hanging bright in the window, then rolled onto his side and snuggled down to sleep.

* * *

It is late spring, and the Twins are officially five years old. 

Over the winter, mama had, over the course of several letters, organized a large purchase with the Madame’s favored tailor from Hupperdook. She carefully measured Vic and Verse, sent the measurements on their way, and then they waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Today was the special day, and their new clothes finally arrived! No more gowns and stockings, Vic and Verse had actually graduated to real trousers, and real shirts! 

The weirdest part, to Verse, was the feeling of tight fabric hugging their torso after so long wearing loose, flowing children’s gowns. Now, they had actual fitted shirts, and honestly? They _loved_ it! The fabric was soft linen, nothing especially extravagant, and their new trousers were stiff and hardy, perfect for running around in wild grasses with Vic. 

Vic, as usual, was literally vibrating with excess energy. He was twisting and turning, trying to get a look at himself, “Verse! Verse, can you see my butt in these?! Does my shirt cover it? Mama! Look!” 

He seemed really disturbed at having the seat of his trousers visible. This… kind of made sense to Verse? The children’s gowns were very modest, long sleeved and trailing down past their knees. But the fashions of these new clothes closely matched what the menfolk wore, scaled down and with a few adjustments to make it easier on a growing body. When mama had taken their measurements, Vic had expressed that he didn’t want people looking at his bottom, and had insisted on having his shirts specially adjusted into tunics instead. His wardrobe came with several decorative belts to wear over his new tunics.

Verse, though, was very pleased with theirs, preening and patting at their new shirt with pride. The sleeves were puffy and loose, collected tightly at the wrist cuffs, which buttoned, and the neckline swooped in a modest, collared ‘v’ with little painted wooden buttons down the front, slightly off-center. They loved how the clothes hung, tight and fitted perfectly to them, with carefully folded seams for letting out as they grew into them. It was very clever, really! Verse had paid close attention as mama inspected the seams on one of their new trousers, explaining how they would be let out and resown to fit them. Their wardrobe came with several decorative sashes, and Verse was over the moon about them. 

“Vic, you look amazing, I promise,” they assured, holding up one of their new sashes consideringly. “No one can see your butt, exactly like you asked!” 

Reassured, Vic gave a final nervous rub down the line of his tunic, then spun around and ran over to mama, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he squealed, flapping his hands so excitedly that Verse felt their own hands start flapping in shared joy. The sash they’d been considering fluttered beautifully at the motion, deep red linen twisting through the air as though dancing in a heavy wind. Verse laughed, filled with joy, carefully folded and set down their sash, and ran over to join Vic in smothering mama in hugs and affection. 

This was an AMAZING birthday!

* * *

Vic skipped along the road, humming tunelessly to himself. In one hand he clutched close a small cloth doll, soft and finely embroidered with beautiful violet eyes, and with the other hand he held tightly to mama. Verse held mama’s other hand, and in their other hand they held a small cloth bag that clinked merrily with each gentle swing of their arm. Verse had gotten a beautiful set of colored glass marbles. 

It was early summer, now. They had spent the morning out amongst all the temporary shops. Usually, the shops held common, useful things: leathers, furs, foodstuffs, or kits for repairs. All things that a traveling passersby would want. Today, though, there was a traveling toymaker! 

He made rounds every year, from Hupperdook to Rexxentrum, to far in the south, in the Menagerie Coast, and back! He was based out of Hupperdook, where he lived when he wasn’t traveling. He usually left Hupperdook in mid spring, a few weeks after the twin’s birthday, but he was very late this year, apparently having delayed to help with his daughter’s wedding. 

Awkwardly, Vic reached up with his new doll in hand and tried to tuck his long, wavy curls back behind his ear. They kept falling over his growing horns into his face, and it was almost annoying enough to make him consider getting it cut short like Verse’s! His vanity wouldn’t allow it, though, he loved having long, vibrant, luxurious hair. Though… Honestly, at five years old, his hair was more messy than luxurious, and he didn’t quite foresee that changing, with his hyperactive energy levels being what they were. Vic stopped in place, tensing, then leapt forwards, swinging his arms wildly and inadvertently tugging at mama’s hand. 

Laughingly, she scolded him, asking, “Vic, love, walk calmly! Why are you so wild, huh?” 

He grinned sheepishly, and Verse took the opportunity to chime, “It’s because he’s part rabbit, mama, he has to hop!” 

Mama smiled down at him, her face suffused with happiness. There was a shout and a clatter behind them, and she turned to look--

The next thing Vic remembers, there was a terrible jerk at his arm, and he is airborne. 

He lands, slamming into the grasses at the side of the road with a jarring thud. The next few moments are in flashes as he slowly blinks away the pain. His left elbow and shin are on fire from where they scraped against the rocky ground, the pain burning in a strange, distant way as he struggles to focus against the dazed shock overwhelming his mind. 

He blinks, and rolls to his stomach, pushing himself to his hands and knees. His hip flares dully in a way that saps his attention, a deep, flaring ache settling into the bone. His ears are ringing with silence in a significant way that tells him there is a lot of noise, but he cannot process it. 

He blinks, again, and the sound rushes back to him in a confused jumble. Distantly, he hears a strange, gasped sobbing, but mostly he hears shouts of alarm and confusion, as though several people were all talking at once, trying to talk over each other. One voice breaks over the cacophony like a wave--Mister Bhalduhr, he recognizes stupidly. There’s a loud whinny and a snort, and sounds of someone speaking soothingly, muttering nonsense, the pitter-patter of a horse’s hooves dancing in the dirt sounding oddly like bells to Vic’s distorted senses. 

He raises his head, slowly, a warm, nauseating ache spreading from his temple as the adrenaline slowly fades. Limbs shaking, he staggers to his feet and pauses, gasping back tears, a deep horror preventing him from turning around and confirming his fears. A low, keening wail cuts the air. 

“MAMAAA!” Verse screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is a cliffhanger, my apologies. However, I am already halfway finished with the next chapter, so it should not be a long wait.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath. 
> 
> Jan. 26, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gore

“This is a disaster,” the Madame murmured to herself in the quiet of her small cubbyhole of an office. From here, she could no longer hear the children sobbing, or the quiet sniffling of Adele, or the rough timbre of Bhalduhr’s voice, hoarse after yelling the crowd back into some semblance of civility and order. 

One of her girls was dead. 

The Madame was an old woman, now, well into and past her prime. She had been visited with death, of course, in a life so long, but it still bit with bitter teeth when it came. Hannah had been so young… 

The Madame had been over at Cleric Iannon’s, discussing the possibility of funding the building of a barn and the purchase of a milk cow, and then they had heard the shouting. They had run out, and… 

It was awful. 

Apparently one of the passersby had stopped and left their horse and cart to shop. Nothing unusual there, except that their horse had been spooked by a snake coming out of the grasses onto the road. The horse was still harnessed, and the cart still heavy and laden. The man had shouted a warning as soon as he saw the horse run, and that was likely all that had saved the children. Young Hannah had heard the shout and turned to look, and had immediately thrown the children off the road. There hadn’t been time to save herself, too. Hannah’s neck had been snapped on impact, her back broken in three places. It was unlikely that she had even lived long enough to feel the pain of her mangled bones. 

Little Verse had missed the accident itself, but had witnessed Hannah’s crumpled form in the road. The other child, Vic, had not seen either part of the incident. Where Verse had suffered no more than a stiff shove off to the side, enduring little more than scraped hands where they had caught themself, Vic had been lifted and thrown to get him out of the way in time. His head had been caught on a stone on the side of the road, and he had a mild concussion, along with several deep bruises and scrapes. Upon seeing him standing, facing away from the road and sobbing, the Madame had rushed over and gathered him to her. No need for both of the twins to see Hannah laid out like that.

It would be a very long time before the Madame forgot the sound of Verse’s heartbroken wail when Cleric Iannon had looked up from Hannah’s mangled body and shaken his head. 

The Madame sighed, her breath gusting heavily in the silence of her office. 

What would they do with two orphaned five-year-olds, here? In a brothel? In the middle of nowhere, no wider community of possible foster families in sight? 

This would not be the first time the Madame has needed to work her contacts and find fosterage for unwanted children. She was proud to say that she had never left a child to the mercy of that awful orphanage in Rexxentrum! But two children, not infants? Tieflings, at that? This would be the most difficult placement in her long career. 

And there was no question that they would need placement. For all that the twins had lived here their entire lives, the brothel was a place of business, not a country estate. The brothel was well known within the region, but it was not so wealthy that it could afford to raise Hannah’s twins in her absence. Finding an appropriate foster would take time, however. What to do with the twins in the meantime? 

Perhaps… It would have to do. She would move Bhalduhr into Hannah’s old room, and move Hannah’s things into storage. She would pay him to watch over the twins until a proper family came up. It should only be a few weeks, surely? There was a girl in Zadash who was needing to move out, on account of an overly interested client. The Madame would contact that brothel and offer Bhalduhr’s old rooms, to fill the hole in the staff now that Hannah was… dead. 

Good Gods. 

For a moment, the Madame choked, breath catching in her lungs, and then with a small, quiet sound she covered her face and began to cry, shoulders shaking with each strangled sob. 

* * *

_ It was carnage.  _

_ Mangled bodies littered the field, literally turned muddy with the wash of spilled blood. Verse walked, haunted, between screaming wounded. The bodies reached out to them, begging for some kind of relief, and at first, Verse could only shake their head, tears streaking down their face in ashy lines. Their eyes squinted against the harsh, clouded gloom, and they began to feel afraid, overwhelmed, as they looked over the endless wasteland of dying.  _

_ They looked to the nearest body, filled with a morbid sense of curiosity. It looked at them, pleading, it’s hair coming out in stringy clumps, its skin covered in a horrible layer of gore and viscera. It’s breath panted in agonized gasps. As best Verse could tell, it was too wounded to move.  _

_ Verse stepped closer, some inherent instinct guiding them. Closer, closer, they stepped, until they could just reach out and touch… “ _ Cure Wounds _ ,” they whispered, and just like that, in a rush of magic, the body began to heal.  _

_ It was like an epiphany, a bright, shattered moment of pure understanding, and suddenly Verse knew. Take the wounded, one by one, and heal them.  _

_ Verse had no idea how long they spent healing. One after the other, it could have been days. It could have been minutes. Time was meaningless. Sounds of fire and battle poured over them, but they knew if they just focused and healed, one after the other, again, again, again… They knew that each body healed was a body that walked away from this horror, so they kept at it.  _

_ Sometimes, the nameless, formless violence would come after them, but they stayed focused on their task and nature itself rose to their defense. Wind pushed enemies aside. Earth faltered their malicious approach.  _

_ Water wrung itself from the skies to help wash their patients, and fire leapt to their command, not an agent of violence, but an agent of utility, of warmth and light. _

_ Eventually, exhausted, Verse  _ woke up. 

For a while they laid still, bundled up in their customary blanket burrito, their heart racing, their breath steady and measured. ‘What kind of nightmare,’ they wondered, shock and a kind of immeasurable weariness pulling at their bones, ‘Why did I dream such a thing?’

Beside them, Vic let out a sharp gasp, and then a stifled cry. Worried, Verse struggled to unwrap themself and turn to him, but as soon as they got their head free of the blankets, they froze, staring in horror at the room around them. 

It was covered in blood. Red, viscous, oozing splatters trailed from one end to the other, in a horrifying shitshow of gore. Caught up by the same morbid curiosity from their dream, Verse reached out to touch the wall nearest the bed… and their hand passed right through to the dry, untouched wall. The blood spatters turned lightly translucent at their touch, still present but obviously illusory. 

Baffled, Verse turned to Vic, who was hunched in a ball, trying to avoid the illusory splatters on the mattress. His face was a rictus of horror.

“It’s an illusion, Vic. Please, just touch it, I promise it’s not real,” Verse tried to assure them. Worried, wanting to comfort their brother, they reached out and pulled Vic into a hug. Alarmingly, Vic whined at the contact, and began to cry. “Vic! Oh, no, Vic, what’s wrong?! It’s not real, I promise, I don’t know what’s happening but it’s not real!” 

_ “I h-had a d-dream! I h-hurt him. I hurt him s-so much, oh, gods. Gods!” _ Vic stuttered in infernal, clutching hard at Verse’s shoulders, his head tucked into the crook of their neck, tears soaking their nightgown. 

“W-what?” they asked, alarmed. Vic never had nightmares! Vic had always been able to control his dreams, so nightmares were impossible for him… At least, that was how Verse understood it. Had something changed? 

Vic shuddered, still holding tight, “I… in my dream, I cast a spell. It was like… it came up from inside of me. From… that thing… That evil thing, inside of me,” he babbled, nonsensically, and with a jolt of memory, Verse recalled their own magical dream. 

“I don’t… it was a dream,” they started, wanting dearly to comfort their twin, and also musing consideringly on their own dream. If they thought about it… That spell… 

It was like that spell, the understanding of it, the knowledge of how to cast it, hung right at the tip of Verse’s tongue. Was it really a dream? How… It really felt like… They could cast this spell, easily. They pulled their hand away from Vic’s back, their palm still scraped from the accident, and stared at it, considering. 

“I get to choose. I get to choose what I do and why,” Vic was muttering, tears slowed, a grimace pulling at his mouth as Verse pulled away. 

“Vic… Can I see your shin?” Verse interrupted, voice quiet but sure. 

After the accident, Cleric Iannon had healed Vic’s concussion and the bruising on his hip, but the smaller scrapes and bruises remained. 

Confused, Vic sat back and extended his leg out on the mattress, passing through one of the nastier puddles of illusory blood. Ignoring the illusion, Verse concentrated on the small injury, and then placed their hand on Vic’s ankle. 

_ “Cure Wounds,” _ they intoned, and  _ focused _ . 

Right before their eyes, the small scabs and bruise faded away to nothing. 

The twins sat and stared. 

From the adjoining room-- _ ’Mama’s room,’ _ Verse thought mutinously--there was an alarmed bellow. Mister Bhalduhr was awake. He burst into the nursery with a bang, slamming the door against the opposite wall. Both twins jumped, startled, and stared, wide eyed. 

Mister Bhalduhr looked around the room, then looked to his feet, where he was standing directly in an oozing, slowly spreading pool of slightly translucent gore. He looked up to the twins, mouth agape but no sound coming out. 

Vic was the first to relax. “So… I’m guessing you see all the blood, then?” he guessed wryly, eyebrows raised as he waved his hand through the puddle on the bed where he sat. 

From down the hall, there was a muffled screaming. 

Verse grabbed Vic’s hand, alarmed, and he squeezed reassuringly. This was going to be a long day. 

* * *

The aftermath of the accident was fuzzy, for Vic. The grief was both novel and familiar. It was something he had experience with, from his past life, but that experience didn’t really make it any easier. 

Just like last time, the hardest part for Vic was watching everyone else grieve, too. 

The Madame didn’t waste any time, moving mama’s belongings out of her room and into storage without so much as a by-your-leave. Verse was completely outraged, just absolutely hissing in fury, but Vic was more resigned. They were children, after all. Settling mama’s final business was for adults, and now was definitely not the time to pipe up with stories of former lives and adult memories. He did his best to comfort Verse, but definitely worried that some bridges between them and the Madame were well and truly burned to ash. 

Then, two days later, not even a week after mama’s passing, they woke up to a world awash with blood. The entire brothel, and a good portion of the crossroads themselves, were all affected. No one knew the cause. 

It was extremely creepy. Verse suspected it was a demon haunting. Vic was inclined to agree… until he heard Miss Rose slurring about “crazy wizards, running about scaring decent folk”. Now he was firmly in the prankster wizard camp, and Verse agreed! 

But it wasn’t the only such event. Invisible barriers sprung up suddenly one day, making a ridiculous maze of the hamlet. Another day, there was a sudden outburst of fires all over the Crossroads. They almost lost Cleric Iannon’s house! There was a sudden slurry of localized snowfall in the middle of summer. Again and again… until one day, Verse and Vic were walking in the street, on their way home from the outer fields, when a sudden burst of lightning scattered out from them, radiating in a pointed sunburst pattern, with the twins standing at the very center. 

Suddenly, these magical maladies were not so funny. The Vanderban's were the first to turn on the twins. 

“Mama says you’re cursed, and that if you aren’t dealt with soon, the whole Crossroads will esplode,” ten year old Brinda taunted, standing five feet away (at a ‘safe’ distance, Vic presumed). 

“Well, if your mama says that, it must surely be true…” Vic agreed easily, deadpan. 

Verse snorted, “Oh, yes, definitely.” 

Brinda cringed, looking nervous, which Vic thought was a bit much from a girl who had happily barked orders not three weeks prior. Did she really think the twins were suddenly a threat? Just because Mrs. Vanderban was ragging on them? He frowned at her, mood souring. 

“Well, you should just… go away, then!” She spat meanly, then cringed again and ran off, face pale. 

Next was Miss Elxi, overheard arguing with the Madame about sending the twins to Rexxentrum. Vic couldn’t catch the whole argument, but he recalled with clarity the vivid blotches of angry pink on the Madame’s face as she spat out that she would never send a child to “that awful place”. Whether she meant Rexxentrum itself or a place within the city, Vic was unsure. 

Still. The argument left him feeling insecure. 

The Madame was the de facto ruler of the Crossroads. Technically, she ran a small council with the other adults, and answered to the nearest lawmaster, but in practice, she was the authority here. At any time, she could easily just… Send the twins anywhere. Technically, Vic considered that she may very well have custody of them, at that very moment. 

Mister Bhalduhr and Miss Adele were next, seemingly coming to agreement together. It was Miss Adele who really put their circumstances into perspective. 

“They are orphans, Madame. You and Hannah were close, it’s true, but she’s gone, and didn’t leave any kind of will… If you haven’t found a foster by the time the tithe collector comes in autumn, the decision of what to do with the twins will be taken out of your hands. They’ll take them, whether we like it or not, to the orphanage,” Miss Adele warned, her smooth, smoky voice sounding resolute, but not vindictive. Vic was pretty sure she wasn’t happy about what she was saying. 

Vic was forced to dart away after that, as footsteps came to the kitchen door--likely to close it and block off listening ears--so he missed the Madame’s response. Mister Bhalduhr seemed sad and distant after that, engaging the twins less and less, always with pity in his eyes. 

When Vic saw himself in a mirror next, he had dark circles under his big, red eyes. His childish face was drawn, and there was a look of resignation in the angles of his face even when he tried to force a smile. 

Verse had near on retreated entirely, hiding away behind their books with a feverish, dreamy intensity. From what Vic could tell, they were studying their already-memorized magic primers, desperately looking for any kind of answers to these horrible magical maladies. 

Surely, it wasn’t the twins causing them? Surely they would know, if it were..?

The twin’s whole world was coming down around their ears, and it seemed like there was nothing they could do to stop it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't loose hope! It will not always be bleak!


End file.
